


Through the Fire

by QuixoticLullaby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 18:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 9,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1315693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuixoticLullaby/pseuds/QuixoticLullaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each episode of the series individually slashed up according to the little wincesty arc going on in my head while I watch the show. Pretty much tags to each episode in order starting with Pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. I'm on fanfiction.net and have been for a long time as an author, but I've been lurking here for years and finally decided to get off my ass and make an account/put my crap up here too. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I only own Sam and Dean in my dreams, and what lovely dreams they are.~ ;D I also regularly sample dialogue from the show, so obviously I didn't create that either.

**Season 1, Episode 1: Pilot -**

**Sam P.o.v.**

 

Jess is dead. The girl that I was trying so hard to be Joe-College with is nothing more than an awful smell in my no longer existent apartment. I feel like I'm going to throw up, but I don't. Dean would kill me for getting it on the upholstery...Dean…I was getting away from Dean with Jess, getting rid of all that wrongness that came with Dean. Dean was safety and love, but Dean was also temptation and iniquity.

You're not supposed to want your brother, that's not how that's supposed to work. Even though he's been the only stable thing in my life for as long as I can remember; the only one that was always there, the one that always stepped in between the monster and me, the one that gave me the last bowl of Lucky Charms even when he wanted it for himself, the one who insisted that I take the bed farthest from the door so that whatever got in would have to get past him to get to me. My savior…he was the only entity that I could ever call home, but me and my fucked up mind, I had to ruin it by wanting more than a brother ever should. And to mess it up even more, Dean wanted it too. I don't know if it was just how long we'd spent together 24/7, 365 and all that jazz or if he just realized sooner than I did that anyone else either of us would try to get involved with would just end in their death.

We couldn't always protect civilians, there was always the danger that something would happen to them when we weren't around, but I could sure watch Dean's back while he pumped some ghoul full of rock salt. We could protect ourselves, and that was a luxury we couldn't afford not to have in a partner. He was the only person I trusted, the only person I could trust. He was my everything and I had to leave him to give both of us a shot at a life that wasn't filled with inappropriate desires and kisses stolen while dad was out drowning his sorrows on the sympathetic shoulder of Jose Cuervo or out on a hunt. It might have been good enough for a mess like me, but I didn't want that for Dean, he deserved more than my punk ass weighing him down, but now, as I cry my eyes out for a girl that I loved, but never could quite be in love with on his shoulder, a calloused hand weaving through my sweat-matted hair, I find myself more tired than I've ever been before in my life. Can't I just be happy for once? Can't I just let myself go and drown in something meaningful?

_"You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."_

_"And who is that?"_

_"One of us."_

One of us...maybe I wasn't destined for normal. Hell, nothing else about my life has ever been normal, why should this be any different? I've decided, I don't care how long it takes, I'm tired of pretending, I want to go back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	2. Wendigo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer from chapter one and all that jazz still applies from here on out.~

**Season 1, Episode 2: Wendigo -**

**Sam P.o.v.**

I'm getting really frustrated. Dad sends us to Bum Fuck, Egypt on a freakin' job when all I want to do is find him and get to Jessica's killer. I know dad's been searching for this thing for twenty years and hasn't had much luck, but all I can think about is that poor pretty girl that loved me and got eviscerated for it.

I feel like out of respect for her I should not do anything in terms of the Dean situation for a while…some kind of mourning period or something. I may not have been in love with her, but I did like her, she was a good friend of mine and I respected her. Plus, I don't know if Dean even still thinks of me like that or if he just sees me as his little brother again…his little brother that he deflowered, as normal and familial as one can get after that. I just wish I knew what to do. I'm so angry. Why couldn't I be normal? Why couldn't my family have been proud that I got a full ride to Stanford? Why did I have to learn how to shoot a .45 before I learned to drive a car? Why do I like my brother in the way that I'm supposed to like my prom date, or my girlfriend? I try to escape, forget about all that, and what do I get for it? I get an innocent girl killed and end up right back where I started only this time we can't find our father. Even though I know Dean likes to put on a game face for me, he's really freaking out. I don't know how he keeps dealing with all this shit.

_"How do you do it? How does Dad do it?"_

_"Well for one, them. I mean, our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable. And I tell you what else helps, killing as many evil sons-of-bitches as I possibly can."_

Well, he was right about one thing, we really are screwed to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	3. Dead in the Water

**Season 1, Episode 3: Dead in the Water -**

**Dean P.o.v.**

 

I do the routine well enough: get to a town, kill some baddies, hustle some pool, flirt with the girls…but it all just seems so stiff these days. It's like I'm an actor playing the part of this suave, devil-may-care kind of guy but that's all it is: an act. I don't want to flirt with Andrea with Sam right there watching, but he expects me to, so I do. Gotta keep the game face on for Sammy, can't let him see any chinks in my armor. He got a girlfriend, albeit a now dead girlfriend. He didn't want what I had to offer, and yes, that hurt like a son of a bitch, but I let him go. Now here he is again, and what's between us is added to the long long list of things we don't talk about. We don't really talk about anything of importance and I suppose that's my fault. Sammy's always been the one that wanted to talk about emotions and crap. Stow it. I always just repressed what was bothering me and got back on the road….but I gotta tell you, I've been doing that for so long that I've started to go numb. I'm used to disappointment, used to pent up resentment from both sides of an issue that eventually results in the two of us getting in a fistfight to release the tensions. I'd rather beat the holy hell out of somebody than talk to them on any sort of meaningful level. I don't know what's more fucked up, the fact that that's true or the fact that that's how I like it.

I'm driving in the car with Sam after another one-sided conversation with Lucas. Sam's being quiet and I strike up a conversation about the drawing that Lucas handed me as I left. Stick to talking about the job, that's always a safe zone.

_"You know, what you said about mom…you never told me that before."_

_"It's no big deal."_ what happened to my safe zone? It's always dangerous when Sam gets that tone in his voice. And now he's got those puppy dog eyes on me,

_"Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything are we?"_

I play it off with sarcasm, and it's true, I'm not a fan of hugs, but right now, I want to touch Sam, just be able to reach across the seat and lay my hand on him like I used to be able to. Now it feels like I'm walking on eggshells with my own brother. I don't know if I'm allowed to ruffle his hair anymore, or pat him on the back or what. Jesus, now I sound like a simpering school girl. What the hell is wrong with me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	4. Phantom Traveler

**Season 1, Episode 4: Phantom Traveler-**

**Sam P.o.v.**

 

God he looks so nervous.

We're on this plane, at 30,000 feet in the air and Dean is outwardly freaking out. I've never had to deal with this before. Usually I'm the one freaking out and Dean's the one trying to get me to sit my ass down and shut up. This is unfamiliar territory. Admittedly he has a reason to be nervous, this plane is going down with almost one hundred percent certainty, so it's not like he's being paranoid or anything, but I can't help but feel that he'd be just like this even if we were on a normal plane. I try to get him to calm down, but he just explodes at me.

_"Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm freakin' four!"_

_"You need to calm down."_ I say in as low a voice as possible.

_"Well, I'm sorry I can't!"_

_"Yes, you can."_

_"Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help-yoga crap. It's not helping!"_

Well, self-help-yoga crap might not help, but when we were kids, only one thing ever stopped Dean from punching someone in the face or calmed him down during an argument. I place my hand solidly over his which is turning ghostly white from gripping the armrest like it's the only thing keeping him alive. Surprisingly, all he does is look out the window like it has become the most interesting thing he's ever seen and grip my hand tighter. No snarky comments, he must really be scared…Yeah, 'self-help-yoga crap' never was Dean's style, but 'touchy-feely' always was, even if he wouldn't admit that to save his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	5. Bloody Mary

**Season 1, Episode 5: Bloody Mary-**

**Sam P.o.v.**

 

Dean was right, there is a secret about Jessica's death. I'd had dreams about it for months…I could have prevented her death if I'd just told her…but that wasn't the only secret weighing me down about her death. The big secret that I wanted to keep to myself was that I was almost kind of happy now. Not that she was dead, but that her death had given me an out. I got a free ticket back to Dean and this lifestyle that I hadn't thought I'd miss. If dreaming about her death days before it happened wasn't enough to give me a guilty conscience, then the waves of relief that often accompany my grief definitely will be.

He thinks he knows all about Jessica's death? Not on his life. I've got to convince him that I can summon Mary…but then he'll want to know…

_"I don't what?"_

_"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything."_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?"_

* * *

 

 

Well, now that we're all done and I've almost liquefied my eyeballs today, I think it's about time to sleep and forget all about this. Of course, Dean doesn't quite see it that way. He wants to know about the secret. I can't tell him about the premonition or he'll think I'm some kind of psychic freak, and I can't tell him the other thing…just because.

_"Look, you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself."_

Like the fact that after all this time…I never got over you.

 


	6. Skin

**Season 1, Episode 6: Skin -**

**Sam P.o.v.**

 

Not to be a smart ass, but I really want to tell that shape shifter that's wearing my brother that I'm not into bondage unless it's with the real Dean.

He's blabbing on and on and I'm not really paying attention because I know that he's just trying to get me riled up by using my brother's memories against me, and trust me, I know that lately there probably are a lot of Dean's memories against me, but I'm not going to listen to anyone gripe about them that isn't even Dean.

That's another way I know that this isn't Dean. The real Dean wouldn't pull all this sharing crap even if he was given the alternative of sticking his face in acid. He'd take his chances with the acid, and boy was I missing that right about now. This guy just would not shut up.

_"I must say, I will be sorry to lose this skin. Your brother's got a lot of good qualities - you should appreciate him more than you do."_

If only he knew…I sighed and once again struggled in the ropes that held me.

The thing actually smirks, and it looks wrong because it's not Dean's smirk, _"No really…he…really wishes you'd appreciate him more."_ the shape shifter says as he suddenly gets rather too close to my space for comfort. He looks me up and down and hums to himself, "The things he wants to do to you…it'd make a sailor blush." I try to lean back away from him, but these ropes just aren't cooperating and he gets impossibly closer. His lips are an inch from mine as he says, _"Mine."_ before crashing his lips down so hard that his teeth clang against mine. It's a desperate sort of kiss, like CPR for a drowning person. I don't kiss back, I can't. I have to keep repeating my mantra as his frenzied lips move against me: not Dean not Dean not Dean not Dean…But God does it ever feel like Dean, even tastes like Dean. I give in for half a second, and press my lips back against his. He withdraws with the cockiest smirk on his face.

 _"Well well well…what do you know, we might have a willing customer in our midst."_ he looks at me appraisingly before saying, _"If I really swung that way, and not just this skin, I'd be all over that, but fortunately for you, little brother, I don't. Little Becky is going to enjoy your brother's body instead."_ I tense, and the shifter has the nerve to look at me with false concern, _"Night Sammy."_   he says before throwing some sort of tarp over me and then the world goes black.


	7. Hookman

**Season 1, Episode 7: Hookman -**

**Dean P.o.v.**

I heard all that stuff that the shape shifter said to Sam, and he knew I heard it after he realized that I was chained to the pole on the other side of the room. We're not going to talk about this. I see those looks Sam keeps shooting me, but it's not going to happen. We have a job to do and it's not going to go very smoothly if we get into an argument, which is bound to happen if we get into talking about anything serious.

Having feelings for someone sucks and what sucks even more is that I have to see him twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. It's almost a relief when we split up and he goes to the girl's house. I scold myself not to get jealous, the guy's girlfriend just died, he's not going to go out chasing tail at a time like this. I still can't help but feel the tension between us. I know some of that has to do with me being a bit more than distant, at least compared with what we used to be.

Sam and I used to be thick as thieves before he left for Stanford, but now I don't think I can trust him…or myself. If we start up that rapport that we used to revel in, I might be tempted to do something that I know Sam doesn't want, at least not anymore. I shake my head as I dig around this place, looking for the unmarked grave of the Hook Man. It's all for the best, of course. We're brothers. I'm sure we're lucky that no one ever found out about this before we stopped it. Dad would have had a coronary after he beat my ass and I don't even want to know what mom would have thought. I finally stumble upon the remains, but the hook isn't attached to them. Time to get back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	8. Bugs

**Season 1, Episode 8: Bugs -**

**Sam P.o.v.**

Alright, so you can cut the sexual tension bubble around Dean and I with a dulled machete, but what the hell am I supposed to do about it? He's been giving me the 'if you even think about talking about it, I'll punch your lights out' look ever since Palo Alto, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I know that some of what that shifter said was bullshit…but not all of it. But hey, it's easier to lie, right? Easier to just dwell in weighty repression in this family than God-forbid ever sit down and talk about something important.

When I was six it was, "No Sammy, dad's fine. He just leaves us because he has to. He wouldn't leave if it wasn't necessary, he loves us." First round of bullshit.

Age eight: "Don't worry son, you can go right back to doing your homework after you perfect this shot, I'm not going to force you to hunt if you don't want to, it's just to make sure you can protect yourself when Dean and I eventually go." Second round of bullshit.

Age fourteen: "Sam…this can't happen, it's wrong…" Wrong by what standards Dean? Those of the normal people that we defy around every corner you mean? Heaping piles of bullshit are all I've been fed my entire life. It's easier to lie and rationalize and hide our feelings than talk about it, realize it. Talking about it makes it real somehow, too real for Dad or Dean. I'm so sick of it I could puke, but I'll keep it in at least until we finish this job. Time induced curses are no time to be hashing out feelings…but then again I think Dean is purposely making us dive into work so that there's never a lull long enough for anything to be brought up. Don't ever let anyone tell you that my brother is dumb. He knows exactly what he's doing and he hides it all carefully under a mask of indifference and seemingly unintentional gestures. I tune back into the conversation between some real estate agent just in time to hear a repeat of what Larry said to us when we told him we were interested in a house.

_"We accept home owners of all race, religion, color, or sexual orientation."_

_"Right. Um, I'm going to go talk to Larry. Okay, Honey?"_

He did not just slap me on the ass? See what I mean…he knows exactly what he's doing, the son of a bitch. He thinks it's funny to mess with me now, in public, where he knows he won't suffer any repercussions, but he knows I'm patient. I won't bring it up in public or while on a case, but he can bet his sweet ass that as soon as possible we're going to have this freaking conversation, even if it does get me a shiner or two in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	9. Home

**Season 1, Episode 9: Home**

**Sam P.o.v.**

I'm having those dreams again, like when Jess died, only this time I'm not going to sit back and ignore it and hope all the bad stuff just disappears. There's something in our old house, and it might have something to do with the thing that killed mom and Jess. Dean has been looking at me like I've sprouted another head ever since I told him about my dreams. I really wish he'd stop. I already know I'm not normal, but at least I've always been able to pretend around Dean, because he's always been just as weird and out there as I am. Now I've even got a one up on Dean.

* * *

 

Great. This is just fantastic, I'm going to die via strangulation by a poltergeist-haunted lamp cord. This is embarrassing. Why does everything like to choke me anyways? Is there some kind of sign on my neck that says that I don't like to breathe or something? Come and get Sam Winchester everyone; he's into erotic asphyxiation hold the erotic. My eyes are starting to bulge and black spots cloud my vision as I feel my hands tug uselessly at the cord. If only I could throw the hex bag into the hole in the wall, but it's too far.

As I'm about to lose consciousness, I feel the vibrations of boots running into the room. Dean. He kicks a hole in the wall and I feel the cord around my throat go limp and Dean is kneeling next to me. He gives me a half hug as he pulls the cord away from my neck as if it's offending him by merely touching me. I feel a kiss pressed to my forehead and then to my cheek. I look up at Dean and I can feel him lean in once more before he tenses when our eyes lock.

_"Dean, we really need to tal-"_

_"No."_

_"This is getting ridiculous!"_ I shout at him as he nearly runs out of the room.

God Damn Dean and his hatred of "chick flick moments." I don't want to have a sob-moment any more than he does, but at least I'm not so emotionally stunted that I literally flee from any conversation that breaches the level beyond cases, food, casual ribbing, and where's dad. Anything that seems like it might even be going in the direction beyond that and Dean runs for the hills. We're really going to get into some shit if we keep skating around this. It's something between us, and the supernatural stuff that we're chasing will sniff it out and use it against us if we don't fix it soon. There's too much tension, too many meaningful looks, and too many secrets. It's going to get us into trouble, and soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	10. Asylum

**Season 1, Episode 10: Asylum**

**Dean P.o.v.**

" _Dean, when are we gonna talk about it?"_

 _"Talk about what?"_ Shit.

 _"About the fact that Dad's not here."_ Oh thank God…

 _"Oh..uh, let's see...never."_ That's when we'll talk about that other thing too, Sammy.

We're at this insane asylum in Illinois, and we're thinking that this insane doctor guy was experimenting on his patients. Apparently he's not done yet, even though now he's no more than a stinking corpse.

I keep trying to speed from job to job lately because I know Sam won't try to get into any huge blow outs while we're on a case, so if we're always on a case then problem solved, right? I was thankful when dad sent us these coordinates. Sam was getting that look in his eye and we just had too much shit to "talk about" for comfort. There was dad, and how he's never anywhere that he's sending us and then on that same note where the hell is he and what is he doing? Then there's Jessica and Sam's guilt and self-loathing fest about her, Sam's visions, which scare the holy hell out of me and him both, and then God forbid he broach the topic of how I can't keep my hands to myself.

He almost had me back in Lawrence when I lost my mind momentarily after making sure he was alright, but I managed to ungracefully get out of that one. I know he wants to talk about it, probably wants to remind me that we're not that way anymore, but I just really don't think I want to hear it. I know he had Jessica and was happy. I'm not going to taint my little brother anymore because of my unhealthy feelings.

* * *

 

We've split up, which is a bad idea… Sam's been gone for awhile and I'm starting to get worried and a little pissed off because that's how I get when I worry.

He's in the basement. Fantastic, cause nothing ever goes wrong in the basement. Ellicot lured Sam down here, probably to try some of his Jedi mind tricks on him. He seems alright though. At least something's going well in this hell hole. Let's just get this over with; find the body, torch it, leave, next case.

We walk into this dank, unhealthily moist room, Sam makes some comment about not finding a hidden room in here, but I'm almost certain that it is. Sure enough there's a draft under some boarded up space on the wall. I'm on my knees, trying to pry the board off when Sam calls my name. I turn around only to have Sam's sawed-off pointed straight at me. Okay…this is not a nice new development.

_"Sam, put the gun down."_

_"Is that an order?"_ Oh shit…really?

 _"No, it's more of a friendly request."_ He looks at me and I can almost see the evil glint in his eyes as he shifts the gun in his arms.

_"Cause I'm getting pretty tired of taking your orders."_

_"I knew it. Ellicot did something to you, didn't he?"_

_"For once in your life, just shut your mouth."_

_"What are ya gonna do, Sam? The gun is filled with rock salt. It's not gonna kill me."_

I somehow manage to feel the shots pierce my chest before I hear the sound of the gun going off. Sonofabitch.

_"No, but it'll hurt like hell."_

I cannot believe Sam just shot me. I know he's under some kind of spell or possession or something, but still…damn. We've just gotta get thorough this, burn the body and get Sam back to normal…and then punch him in the face for shooting me.

_"Sam, we've gotta burn Ellicot's bones and all this'll be over. Then you'll be back to normal."_

_"I am normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? Cause you're following dad's orders like a good little soldier? Cause you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval? Or are you just trying to make up for all the dirty things you've done that would have made him disown you?"_

_"This isn't you talking Sam."_

_"That's the difference between you and me, I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic like you. I'm not afraid to do what I want, not afraid of what dad will think."_

_"So, what are you going to do, huh? You gonna kill me?"_

_"You know what, I am sick of doing what you tell me to do. We're no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago. We're no closer to anything than we were six months ago. We're no closer to finding Jessica's killer, to figuring out why I'm having visions, to doing something about -us-. That's not going to go away Dean, and I'm sick of you avoiding it like the plague, avoiding -me-."_

_"Well, then here, let me make it easier for you." I hand Sam my gun Hey, at least it's not loaded._

_"Come on, take it. Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt. Take it!"_

It's only when I'm staring down the barrel of my own .45 that I start to really regret all this that's built up between us. I'm sure Ellicot would have found something to make Sam go off the deep end about, but suddenly I really wish it wasn't this.

 _"You hate me that much? You think you can kill your own brother? Well then, go ahead. Pull the trigger. Do it!"_ Please don't do it Sammy…

He pulls the trigger. Not once, not twice, but three times, desperately trying to put a bullet in my brain before I smack the gun out of his hand and knock him out.

Well shit…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	11. Scarecrow

**Season 1, Episode 11: Scarecrow -**

**Sam P.o.v.**

Sitting in a bus station is never going to be fun. Sitting in a bus station after a fight with the only person still alive who you ever gave a rat's ass about is downright depressing. Sitting in a bus station after that same person calls you and tells you that he's proud of you, and wants you to take care of yourself…that's just cruel.

Every moment I sit with my ass to the cold concrete, next to this random, semi-attractive blonde, is another moment that Dean's hunting alone. I don't know why, but I have this bad feeling. People try and tell you that those mean nothing, but if my father taught me one thing, it's trust your instincts and my instincts are telling me that Dean is in trouble with this one.

I fret and pace about for a few minutes before picking up the phone and dialing again.

_"You've reached Dean, leave a message."_

Aww hell. Screw it, I'm going. He can call me a girl all he wants when he's safe.

 _"Our bus came in."_ the blonde, Meg, says as she shoulders her pack.

I just shake my head and stuff my phone into my bag,

_"You'd better catch it. I gotta go."_

_"Go where?"_

_"Burkitsville"_

_"Sam, wait!"_

_"I've been trying to call my brother for the last three hours. I'm just getting his voicemail."_

_"Maybe his phone's turned off?" If it were anyone else, under normal circumstances, maybe. But not Dean, not during a hunt._

_"No, that's not like him…Meg, I think he might be in trouble."_

_"What kind of trouble?"_   She probably thinks he's a crook…

" _I can't really explain right now. I'm sorry-look, I don't want you to miss your bus."_

_"But I don't understand, you're running back to your brother? The guy you ran away from. Why? Because he won't pick up his phone? Sam…come with me to California."_

_"I can't. I'm sorry."_

_"Why not?"_

Because I never really wanted to leave Dean. Because I was just scared that he was mad at me, frustrated that we're not getting anywhere, not finding anything. Because he's the only thing I really care about. Because he's in trouble, I can feel it. Because he'd do the same for me. Because we have so much unfinished business. Because I don't want to go to California with a blonde, I just want to stay with Dean. Because I'd never forgive myself if something happened to him. Because I'd die if he did. Because he's my brother…

 _"He's my family,"_ is all I can think appropriate to say as I walk out of the bus station. Time to go steal a car. Good thing there's always a Jimmy in my duffel; Dean always makes sure I'm prepared for when I need to go save his ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	12. Faith

**Season 1, Episode 12: Faith -**

**Sam P.o.v.**

 

I haven't slept in days. There's gotta be something I'm missing, some lore somewhere that I haven't stumbled across yet. I won't let Dean die. That phrase is not in my vernacular and It's not happening. God, I can't even think straight. There's gotta be something…

There's a knock at the door, I start and reach for my gun before it occurs to me that I'm in a motel room in the morning and it's just housekeeping. I swing the door open to tell her that I really don't need the room cleaned right now only to come face to face with a dilapidated version of my brother. God damnit what is he doing out of the hospital? I ask this and of course, he's all bravado and jokes.

_"I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot."_

_"You know this whole "I laugh in the face of death" thing is crap, I can see right through it."_

_"Yeah, whatever. Have you even slept? You look worse than me."_ he slowly walks across the room and lowers himself onto a bed. "You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you?"

 _"I'm not gonna let you die period."_ he sighs and turns to stare at the ceiling.

_"Look, Sam, it's not that I don't appreciate you trying to save me, but lay off it will ya? If there was an easy solution, you'd have found it and any solution that isn't easy is so sketchy that you'd be risking more than you'd gain."_

_"More than I'd gain…? Dean, there isn't anything that I wouldn't do for you, wouldn't give."_

_"I know, and that scares the ever-loving-crap out of me."_

I really don't know what to say, so I walk over to the bed and sit next to him.

 _"I don't know what to do Dean…what do I do?"_ I ask quietly.

_"Let me go?"_

_"Nah, that's an impossibility. Next option?"_ I say with the smallest hint of a smile on my face.

 _"Kiss me?"_ I sit up straighter and look over at Dean with widened eyes,

 _"You actually wanna talk about this?"_ He gives me his patented smirk,

_"Hell no. But if I'm going to die, consider it a last request of mine that you just shut up."_

And with that his lips are slanted over mine and it's perfection. I've missed this so much, this feeling, the rush that occurs when kissing Dean. That's how I knew I was never really in love with anyone else that had ever kissed me, it just wasn't like this, wasn't how it was supposed to be.

We kiss languidly for a few minutes, just enjoying the simple press of lips against lips and the easy and familiar way that ours move around each others'. Dean's tongue snakes out to brush against mine as the kiss deepens and he slowly, tentatively presses a hand to my chest to impel me to lay back onto the bed. I follow his guiding hand, not wanting to break the spell that seems to have come over Dean as he clutches my shirt in almost desperation. Like this is the last time he'll ever kiss me…This won't be. I'm going to find a way to save him. I don't care how. I don't even care how shady it is, I won't ask questions. I just want Dean alive, with me.

After Dean's kissed himself into exhaustion and I've tucked a blanket around him I'm back at the laptop. There's this faith healer in Nebraska. I normally don't put much trust into faith healers because they're a load of crap, but this guy keeps getting my attention. People are saying that it's the real deal, now granted every faith healer has people saying that they're the real deal, but this guy keeps pinging around in the back of my skull. Maybe I'll take Dean to see him, tell him we're going to a specialist or something. It's not like we've got anything to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	13. Route 666

**Season 1, Episode 13: Route 666**

**Dean P.o.v.**

 

I am the world's biggest idiot…After I thankfully did not die I now have to live with my embarrassment of giving in and kissing Sam. Yeah, he gave it up to me, but I was dying. What he hell was he supposed to do?

I've got to find a way to convince Sam that I'm fine with us just being brothers. That I don't want that from him…but I do…so therein lies the rub. I've got to lie, which admittedly I am pretty good at, but it's so much harder to lie to Sammy. It becomes a moot point when Cassie calls. She rides into save the day like a knight in shining armor with her plea for help. If I can pointedly be all over her then Sam'll have to think I've got no designs on him, right?

So that plan was a disaster…we finished the case, I banged Cassie, Sam's hurt, and everything sucks. I feel dirty in every sense of the word. I feel awful for leading Cassie on, because she deserves someone better. I feel gross for sleeping with someone I really didn't want to and I feel bad that Sam's been giving me either the 'hurt puppy eyes' or the 'god damn you' eyes ever since we left. How did I fuck it up so badly? Does he…could he really want me? Well, not anymore genius. You fucked that one up nice and proper. I keep my hands on the steering wheel as we drive out of here and I find myself glancing over at Sam more than once as he broods in the passenger seat.

_"I'm not going back, you know? Settling down with a girl…that life. It's not for me man."_

Sam just grunts and turns to lean his head into the window and tries to sleep. Bless him, he had his game face on the whole time we were with Cassie. He didn't say one word against her or try and pull me away. Maybe we've got more in common than I thought. Both just shoving each other at other people to try and get away from the inescapable fact that we're pretty much it. I'm not going to push Sam away anymore. If he wants it, he can come get it. I'm sick of fighting, sick of try to pawn him off when I'd rather honestly beat the holy crap out of anyone who even looks at him with anything but innocent eyes…I'm just done with it. If he's all pouty over me and Cassie then there's obviously something there. Come and get it Sammy boy.~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	14. Nightmare

**Season 1, Episode 14: Nightmare**

**Sam P.o.v.**

Holy crap we're screwed…this Max kid has gone off the deep end and he's gonna kill his mom…He's gonna kill Dean. He is going to kill my brother and I am trapped in this closet and no matter how many times I kick at it that cabinet isn't going anywhere.

 _"Dean!"_ I shout to no avail.

Goddamnit…I can't really blame Max for being the way he is…it's how I might be eventually…but he can go to hell if he thinks he's going to kill Dean. I have the vision again, but this time it's more clear and I see the blood oozing out of my brother and something in me just suddenly feels like it's being pulled taut and my mind explodes in pain as I vaguely hear the cabinet scuff against the floor. The door is open…I try not to dwell on that fact as I race up the stairs.

* * *

 

Max is dead…that poor woman is alone now. All of her family is dead. I'm more of a freak than ever and I'm probably going to go crazy soon and turn into a psychotic killing machine. I'm just lucky it hasn't happened yet…

Dean is looking at me funny. I just told him that I moved that cabinet with my mind…and he's making light. Telling me to bend a spoon…It's just so frustrating.

 _"Aren't you worried that I could turn into Max or something?"_ I blurt out.

" _Nope, no way. Know why?"_

_"No, why?"_

_"Cause you have one advantage that Max didn't have."_

_"Dad? Because dad's not here Dean…"_

_"No…me. As long as I'm around, nothing bad is going to happen to you."_ He sounds so assured…

I half-listen as he spouts off some crap about needing to go to Vegas and clean up at a craps table, but all I do is smile and wait for him to finish…before I promptly kiss him. Right on the lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	15. The Benders

**Season 1, Episode 15: The Benders**

**Dean P.o.v.**

 

I'm trying to focus on the one emotion that I have that's family friendly until we get far enough away from the cop, but it's hard. Relief. Relief that Sam's ok, that it wasn't The Demon, that we've got a little more time…That's what I'm clinging to.

Part of me still wants to go back and burn those corpses and not just out of spite, though that's certainly there. I still can't believe it was only people. A few redneck psychopaths could have stolen Sammy from me forever…and for what? Some goddamned sport? When I heard that gunshot…when I thought that guy had shot Sam in the cage…

We've been walking down the back road for a while now, silence becoming comfortable after the light ribbing and the serious request for him to please never do that again. One thing's for sure, he's not going to the friggin' bathroom without an escort for a month after this shit. Not that he'd necessarily mind that…

Ever since that incident with that Max kid Sam's become much more affectionate. Not trying to deny it or hide it anymore on his end I guess…He hasn't kissed me again, but that's about the only thing up to that point. He even tried to hold my hand in a diner the other day. I've been trying to keep my hands to myself as much as possible, trying to give Sam any possible out he needs, or at least try and get him to think about it for one minute before he goes charging ahead, but man…screw it. If he's done pussyfooting around then so am I.

We see an abandoned jalopy in a field a ways outside of town and it looks good enough for me. I stop for a moment and grab Sam's hand briefly when he keeps walking. The look he gives me is just so innocent…so trusting…and I nod over to the car a few yards away and I go over and sit on it. Sam joins me and his added weight makes the rusted frame of the car protest loudly. I look over to him as he squirms, trying to get comfortable. He's expecting some kind of vague heart to heart, the kind we usually have on the Impala's hood, but talking is still about the last thing I want to do, so after looking at him for a few moments I lean over, kissing him tentatively. Last chance to back out Sammy—but before I can coherently finish that thought he's towering over me, gigantor body blocking out the sun as he deepens the kiss with a moan. Unexpected, but I'm not going to question…I'm also not going to let him get the jump on me. I roll us over, our bodies now teetering precariously over the edge of the rusted old Ford and I lick between his lips lightly, moving my hands to tangle in his hair and angle us together better. It's like the breaking of a levee as both of us crush closer together like we're clinging to something as the wind desperately tries to blow us away. My hands are now everywhere and I feel those hard muscles that Sam's been developing. So much different than the soft, doughy Sammy of our teens. This feels decidedly like a man. That thought would have freaked me out to high heaven in the past, but I learned long ago that Sammy-sexual does not mean homosexual. There is only one dude that I can even grasp the concept of loving like this and it is Sam. Not to say I didn't try and 'fill the void' once after Stanford. Ended up with me socking the guy when he tried to respond to my kiss…a little unfair, and I did give him some money to get his nose looked at, but I couldn't help it. It wasn't Sam…and as we rut against this rusting piece of Americana, everything in my life just falls back into place. I don't worry about dad, about The Demon, or about Sam because nothing can hurt him when he's where he belongs, right under me. Anyone that wants him will have to pry him from my cold, dead hands and they better be on the lookout for whatever my angry spirit turns into even after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	16. Shadow

**Season 1, Episode 16: Shadow**

**Sam P.o.v.**

 

After the incident with the Benders, Dean and I have made an unsteady alliance. We still haven't talked about anything, but then again that's par for the course with us. Dean expertly sees to it that we have little time for conversation. He's still rushing us around the country from case to case—looking for dad along the way, though the talks about dad have decreased in a proportional frequency to the increase of our illicit encounters. Go figure. Nothing causes either of us to go a big soft one faster than thinking about our father…and the fact that there even is an our father. The anger I've felt towards his disappearance has been replaced with a dread of finding him. If we find him, Dean will certainly break this unspoken thing between us faster than he can spit out a "yessir" and everything will revert to that dynamic that drove me away to Stanford in the first place. My father will bark an order, Dean will hasten to obey, and I'll be the one left in the dust still questioning if everything that comes out of that man's mouth is indeed gospel or just horse shit. That's my biggest fear: we find dad…and everything changes back to the way it was. I won't have it.

Dean is not some pawn to be used by dad, and neither am I. I want to find the thing that killed Jessica and mom so bad that it hurts, but if we reunite with our father it will not be a return to me being twelve and him the overlord. We're gonna do this like three equal hunters. Dean's become a better hunter than dad ever dreamed of being, and even though I'm not on that level, I refuse to be treated like a child again. Plus he's going to start getting suspicious of why we won't share a room with him…and we won't. Dean will get freaked when we find dad and try to shove all of this back under the rug and play "the good son" for dad, which decidedly does not include making out with your brother, but I won't let him. I won't let dad control our lives, and I won't let him run from this again. It's gonna be a rough time if we do ever find the bastard.

I'm interrupted from my thoughts when I see a familiar shock of blonde hair sitting across the room from us…Meg? How could the girl from the bus station be here? Wasn't she supposed to go to California? Something felt off. After speaking with her a bit, my feeling of something being not quite right intensifies. Not only because the universe has convinced me at last that coincidence doesn't exist, but also because Meg manages to throw a wrench between me and Dean.

 _"Who the hell was she?"_ he asks in a clipped tone that lets me know I'm in trouble.

 _"I don't really know. I only met her once. Meeting up with her again…I dunno man, it's weird."_ I'm hoping to divert the conversation to how weird I feel about all of this rather than lingering on exactly what she said, but Dean doesn't seem up for it.

_"And what she was sayin'? Huh, I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick?"_

_"Look, I'm sorry Dean, it was when we had that huge fight, when I was at that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen—"_

_"Well is there any truth to what she's saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will Sam?"_ Ugh, here we go again…

_"No, of course not, now would you listen?"_

_"What?"_ The exasperation finally wins over Dean's annoyance and just like that his game face is back on.

_"I think there's something strange going on here Dean."_

_"Yeah, tell me about it. She wasn't even that into me."_ Definitely the game face…

_"No, man, I mean like -our- kind of strange."_

* * *

 

So, of course it was all an elaborate ruse to use us as bait to trap our father. I mean, why wouldn't it be? I get all excited that we might be able to put the demon down tonight, so of course my dumb ass lets it slip that I might want to go back to school after we waste this thing. I can physically feel Dean retreating away from me and I just want to backpedal and tell him that I'd want him to come with me. We could still do some hunting on weekends and vacations, but that I do want to settle down, live in one place for more than one month again. Dean can get a real job. I didn't mean that I wanted to leave him, but of course that's how he took it and now there might as well be a brick wall between us as we face our father, him for the first time in months and me for the first time in years. He spouts some bullshit about how he's stronger without us to distract him and Dean eats it up like it's apple pie and even though I secretly want him to go, I know it's smarter if we want to kill this demon to stick together. I voice my opinion, but of course it goes unheeded and we're back where we started this whole mess: dad's gone, Dean and I are messed up in more ways than one, and he's back to not looking me in the eye. Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.


	17. Hell House

**Season 1, Episode 17: Hell House**

**Dean P.o.v.**

I'm on cloud nine. We're working on a case, Sam's begrudgingly agreed to behave like children with this prank war—which I'm totally winning—and we're slowly easing back into this thing we have. I forgave him for all that bullshit that went down in Chicago and I'm trying to pretend that dad didn't whirlwind through our lives again. We haven't done the horizontal tango yet, but the music's definitely started and we're headed to the dance floor. We've done plenty of other stuff, but for some reason the time hasn't been right to dive all the way back in...literally and figuratively. Taking it a little slower isn't usually my style, but it's definitely Sammy's, and for him, I'm willing to make it a slow burn.

We're at this diner with this totally awesome cackling thingamajig. I keep pulling the string just to watch Sam's eyes narrow. He's sexy when he's got a bit of a bitch face going on. I pull it again, just seconds after Sam reprimands me for the twentieth time.

 _"If you pull that string one more time, I'm gonna kill you."_ So I do.

" _C'mon man, you need more laughter in your life, you know. You're way too tense."_ My tone may be innocent, but gaze is anything but brotherly. Sam catches the meaning immediately and nods to the bathroom. I sit back in my chair and give him a wink.

He heads off to the bathroom and a minute or so later I follow so as not to seem too suspicious. The moment I cross the threshold I'm pinned against the door. Sam's always been more of a rough-rider than anyone would ever give him credit for. His tongue is in my mouth before I can say or do anything. We both taste like beer, and it's wonderful. Sam's slowly grinding onto my leg as he maneuvers me over towards the sinks. It's fun for a while, letting him be in control, but of course he's always just waiting for me to turn the tables.

Never one for disappointment, I grab Sam by the back of the neck and shove him roughly backwards until he's sitting on the sink counter, jeans getting damp from the water splashes of the bathroom's previous occupants. I take a moment to look him over before I get too distracted. The fluorescent lights do nothing to dim the sharp angles of his face, nor do they diminish his eyes, pupils dilated despite the brightness of the room. I slant my mouth against his once more and kick the giant trashcan over to barricade the door against potential intruders. Sammy's moaning wantonly into my mouth after a few minutes, just the way I like him to. Pulling him out of the painful constriction of his jeans, he yells so loud I'm sure half the restaurant knows what's going on in here, but neither of us care. He's reaching for me and clinging onto my shirt, likely thinking the same as me: fuck all of these clothes. I stroke him just the way he likes it, slow and hard and then faster and faster until the strokes are in harmony with his panting breath fogging on the mirror. He releases one last cry before he comes, shooting so hard he even makes some of it into the toilet behind us.

 _"You're a rocket maaan..."_ I hum under my breath and Sam laughs breathlessly as he gives me a light smack. He tucks himself back into his jeans and splashes his face with water before making his exit. By tacit agreement I wait about five minutes before following after him. I practically swagger back to the table, reveling in the pleased look on Sam's face.

 _"See what'd I tell you Sammy? You just needed to relieve some tension."_ I remark, feeling rather pleased with myself as well, causing him to fall apart like that being one of my life-long joys. I take a celebratory swig of my beer and wink at Sam as my lips lewdly caress the bottle. His grin intensifies to shit-eating proportions and I'm slightly worried. I open my mouth to ask him what's so funny when I realize that my beer didn't stay where I put it...I stare at it ineffectually for a couple of seconds before it hits me. That sonofabitch.

_"You didn't."_

_"Oh, I so did."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, like fat bottomed girls, make the rockin' world go round.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews (like fat bottomed girls) make the rockin' world go round. =D


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